


(young)blood on bass

by seoulfulnights



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama & Romance, Inspired by Music, M/M, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, neons and smoke and broken hearts, stubborn assholes in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-20 03:23:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20668499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seoulfulnights/pseuds/seoulfulnights
Summary: Tender yet rough, his caress makes Horizon come to life electrified, shock wave after shock wave animating the public chanting his name like a prayer. Changkyun pays no mind to the sultry air that’s too suffocating to breathe or how his open shirt clings to his chest from sweat. The ashes falling on top of his shoes are a nuisance he will concern with later.For when he is on stage, Changkyun can only register two things – his chords and the devil’s voice.Or, bassist Changkyun falls in love for the vocalist Kihyun. This is their story.





	(young)blood on bass

**Author's Note:**

> _Happy birthday my sweet Nami, thank you for blessing us all with your art, I hope this story can make you smile as much as you make others too._
> 
> _thank you Cathe for the poster! You're so amazing :3_
> 
> _  
_
> 
> _there's a playlist for this story which you can find[here! ](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRCJXOaEny6OulSAqZy83w0u_W-YiEntT)_

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s that sort of savvy heartbreak that slowly cracks his heart into tiny little pieces that can’t be glued back together no matter how hard he’d try.

His chest vibrates in harmony with the strings of his bass, eyes closed as he feels the notes pass through his fingertips straight to his blood. The melody transports him away from the loud pub, away from the cheering crowd and in a world where he’s stuck only with his guitar, where he is young and alive and the night belongs to him. The taste of nicotine stings on his tongue, cigarette dully burning, hanging from the corner of his mouth while his fingers pluck at the strings relishing in the marvelous noise that blasts. Tender yet rough, his caress makes Horizon come to life electrified, shock wave after shock wave animating the public chanting his name like a prayer. 

The rhythm of Jooheon’s drums reverberates behind him, each beat shaking the stage and emboldening Changkyun to lose himself in the music even more. He is sure the drummer is giving his all tonight, like a tiger that’s been lurking for too long and finally jumps to snatch the gazelle by the throat. On the other side, Hoseok bobs his head to the amplified power chord of his own guitar, skin glistening under the heated spotlights and a mischievous smirk driving their fans wild. Changkyun ignores his bandmates though and he pays no mind to the sultry air that’s too suffocating to breathe or how his open shirt clings to his chest from sweat. The ashes falling on top of his shoes are a nuisance he will concern with later.

For when he is on stage, Changkyun can only register two things – his chords and the devil’s voice.

_Love, it will get you nowhere_

_You are on your own_

_Lost in the wild_

His irises are flooded with colorful lights and smoke when he returns to this plane of existence, and his senses are overrun by the pure wildness in front of him. Right in the middle of the stage shining like he was born to conquer the world, Yoo Kihyun’s distinctive yell roars with a passion Changkyun is but too familiar with. There’s a pronounced vein on his throat twitching when he reaches for longer notes, an irresistible attraction that lures the bass player to tighten the grip on the neck of his guitar and step closer to the edge. 

"_So come to me now." _Mesmerizing in the confidence he exudes, Yoo Kihyun enchants an entire bar pouring his soul in their cover of _Muse_, sumptuous voice excelling over the rousing instrumental. Despite hearing it a million times, Changkyun still gets goosebumps from that flirtatious line and his tongue peaks out to lick his lips when he locks eyes with the singer. Kihyun’s eyebrow is raised playfully and the bass player mirrors the look with a smirk of his own at the next verse, "_I could use someone like you_. " That wink needs no context but it is enough to have someone in the first row scream.

_I'm gonna make you_

_I'm gonna break you_

_I'm gonna make you_

Hoseok takes over the bridge, microphone set to distort his vocals for the sake of atmosphere but again, Changkyun is too busy to pay any attention. He's fingering Horizon so good the bass moans in his hands and he's feasting on the raw fire-eating him up alive. There's a scorching heat under his skin when Kihyun takes the microphone off the stand and creeps up on him until their noses almost bump. The vocalist bears the same vicious expression, the one that tells you he’s very much aware of the effect he has on others and he thrills on it. "_A fucking psycho._"

They explode in a cacophony of metal clashing and cheers, public hailing their incredible performance and floor cracking beneath their stomping feet. Kihyun jumps across the stage from one edge to the other, spinning in the air with each beat like a hamster on cocaine. For all the audience knows, he might as well be one. Changkyun and Hoseok battle each other for the more frenzied solo, heads rolling from left to right in unison with their eager fans lined up in the front to headbang, speed increasing as their fingers dance even faster on the chords.

With the same diabolic smirk, Kihyun runs between the two of them and lands a loud slap on Changkyun’s behind before he settles in front of his stand, ready to steal hearts with his high vocals. “_Your ass belongs to me now_.” It is always like this, Changkyun knows, always a surreal high to be able to perform in front of people on stage, no matter how small it may be. Always addicting to hear the praise of their growing local fanbase, to see the admiration in their eyes, to release all his frustrations and troubles in his music. Like the cigarette after a good orgasm, Changkyun consumes it with an ever longing appetite. 

And just as he knows he’d be happy to live the rest of his days respecting this exact pattern, Changkyun appreciates that his friends have their own sequence of functioning. Hoseok always rips off his skimpy tank top at the end, girls and boys alike fighting each other to get the rag of cloth thrown in the crowd. Jooheon rushes off the stage with the biggest grin on his face, and depending on how enthusiastic their mob for the night was, he either throws himself over and crowd surfs his way to the bar or jumps straight into the owner's arms, Shownu always catching him even if he has to drop his drink first. 

As for Kihyun, well.

Kihyun turns to him with the same lustful eyes he’s been giving Changkyun the whole concert, he grabs the bass player’s fragile wrist and drags him to the staff room Shownu gave them special access to. Not quite for the dirty intentions they had in mind but as long as they don’t make a sound, Kihyun is free to kiss along the column of Changkyun’s exposed neck while the younger unbuckles the singer’s belt with some practice-given expertise. “You were on fire,” the bassist whispers, lips nibbling on his lover’s ear. 

The compliment tickles Kihyun’s ego, just as Changkyun assumed it would, but he doesn’t lend the other enough time for the cocky reply on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he grabs those brown locks, messing up the slicked back style and bringing their mouths together full of hunger and heat, a shiver cruising Kihyun’s spine when he tastes the metal of Changkyun’s piercing on his own tongue. And when long fingers wrap around his now unrestrained cock, Kihyun releases a soft moan muffled by those pierced lips. 

Without a doubt, Kihyun’s magnetic voice is able to beguile even men made of stone and Changkyun never tires of listening to his mate sing or talk, yet his favorite sounds that come out of Kihyun’s mouth are always the ones he lets out when they’re alone. Those little gasps he attempts to hold back, the grunts released when Changkyun’s thumb rolls over the head of his member, the heavy panting set free when his fingers move just as fast as when they’re strumming in the limelight. “Fuck, ‘Kyun, _fuck,_” Kihyun groans, his melodious tone riding out through the moans.

Changkyun likes to play. He likes to play Horizon more than anything, likes to hear what sort of tunes he can make his bass toll, what euphony can be created with just five chords, he likes to devise his struggles in cherry-picked words assembling lyrics and then tracks and when Hoseok gets involved they might be on their way to a decent album. He plays a similar game with Kihyun after the show is over – no, the show can never over when their entire lives are nothing but a spectacle that must go on even without the magical spotlight. 

In the heat of the moment, when they’re all alone and Kihyun’s running out of breath, Changkyun’s fingers caress gently before they grab with yearning, and his mouth kisses tenderly before it bites ravenously. He swipes his tongue across Kihyun’s honeyed lips, savoring the flavor of tequila drops before he devours him whole as though Kihyun’s kiss instills fire in his icy heart. Making the singer cum within minutes has become second nature to him but still, he isn’t able to pinpoint an exact time of their relationship developing in such a sinful way. 

He could only assume it had something to do with Kihyun’s fascination for bass or his fixation for Changkyun’s fingers and his (“_dumb, handsome_”) face, or maybe it’s tied with the appeal of his lean, tattooed body and the multiple piercings he’s collected since joining X-Phenomenon. “Give me something better if you wanna come.” There’s distinctive greed in that tease, one that demands more than he’s ever been given, one that prowls out from the darkest depths of his being that crave all of Kihyun’s soul and attention. Kihyun leans over and buries his face in the crook of Changkyun’s neck, tasting the salt of his sweat and gripping the thin silky shirt of the bass player until his knuckles turn white.

“You fucker,” Kihyun grunts, any potential threats cut short by a moan loud enough to be heard outside, one Changkyun elicits with sadistic pleasure while his hand jerked his lover off until he becomes all sensitive and flush and completely shaking in his arms. Before Kihyun can even recover his breath, Changkyun’s mouth is back on him, demanding, unshackled, urging the singer to succumb to his desires entirely. “Fuck, get off you horny dog,” the older groans, hand pushing the bassist off him but not without taking the chance to slide down across his abdomen and feel the hard muscles. “Says the one who dragged me here for a quick fuck,” Changkyun mumbles, his lips still reaching to press hurried kisses along Kihyun’s sharp jaw, yet he is forced to stop at a harsher shove.

“I said get off, has the amplifier made you go deaf?” Changkyun scoffs, not yet calling it quits and bringing his hand up instead to swipe the white mess with his tongue, eyes fixated on Kihyun’s own as he flicks and curls his tongue until his palm is once more clean. He's not sure whether the singer snorted something right before the show - and if he did, it's plain rude not to share with him, but Kihyun’s pupils are all blown out, black fading into warm chocolate. And Changkyun has a sweet tooth to satisfy too. “Stop being gross,” Kihyun admonishes, but the dark glint in his orbs spoke of uncontrollable lust Changkyun desired to grasp and collect in a bottle all for himself. “Or else what? You gonna punish me, Ki?” The smirk on the younger’s face further flusters the vocal, fumbling with his own zipper and tucking his tee back in his pants. “You’re such a fucking brat.”

The name calling often goes back and forth for hours at a time and Changkyun can no longer imagine foreplay without a bit of teasing, a bit of bickering, one of them pushing the other against a wall or dragging him in some dark corner. Never in plain light, never fully sober, only when the sun is way down and their blood is mixed with more booze than iron. “You love it,” Changkyun says, pinching at the older’s right cheek and grinning wide at the offended gasp his favorite prima donna lets out. Not a second later, a tiny hand grasps his open shirt and pulls him so close their lips are left only a few inches apart. “It may be so, but we’re done for the night and people will look for us.”

That didn’t settle too well with Changkyun though, not how only Kihyun was allowed to say they’re over or that they could finally fool around – hidden, bounded, a taboo known just by the two of them and whoever had eyes to watch. He never liked playing by others’ rules. “Maybe you are done, but I’m not going back with this boner,” and to emphasize his big problem, Changkyun tugs Kihyun’s free hand to the obvious tent in his leather pants. The bass player groans when fingers grope and palm and turn his semi into a full-on erection with the simplest of touch, but before he can even think of pulling down his zipper, Kihyun has already put a few feet between them. “Next time, puppy.” 

With a blown kiss and a tantalizing wink, the devil was gone, door quietly closed in his wake. “Fucking hells,” Changkyun groans, pondering for a second whether a sad wank is better than the embarrassing walk of shame to the bar but in the end, he knows he won’t be able to cum anymore after Kihyun made a nasty show of leaving him with swollen blue balls. Next time, Changkyun will make him choke on them but ‘til then he’s gonna drown his libido in rum. Lots and lots of rum, no coke involved. Thankfully, Hyungwon is exactly the man he needs tonight, a charming fellow whose wide shoulders shelter many words of wisdom, someone he can count on no matter late night or early morning.

“Look at the poor dog coming back with his tail between his legs,” the barman nudges Hoseok from beside him, while wiping a pint clean. “Oh, wait,” his plump lips suddenly raise in unison with his thin undrawn eyebrows. “It’s not a tail that’s hanging.”

Alright, maybe not.

The jukebox Shownu bought off an antiquities auction plays some vinyl Kihyun brought as a thank you gift after their first show here, a collection of classics he demanded everyone with ears to listen should know. He guesses Kihyun might be right calling it an educational project, yet currently, Changkyun finds himself hating Alice Cooper’s voice and his hits. 

_I hear you calling and it's needles and pins (and pins)_

_I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name_

_Don't want to touch you but you're under my skin (deep in)_

_I wanna kiss you but your lips are venomous poison_

“Fuck you, frog face,” Changkyun curses and jumps the counter – with slight, natural, difficulties. Shownu doesn’t comment anything on it since X-Phenomenon are basically part of his full staff by now, though he does give him this reprimanding look when Changkyun grabs a bottle off the top shelf and pours some amber liquid in a highball glass intended for soda and definitely too tall for distilled drinks. Not that Changkyun expects Shownu to ever tell him anything, the bar owner has been more like a watchful older brother, one who smacks you across the head when you fuck up but still has your back in the end and is ready to protect you.

_Neon sweetheart_ won’t sink just because he plays pirate for the night, nothing could plummet Son Hyunwoo’s thriving bar when the man actually went through the torture of being an economics major and becoming an entrepreneur at the ripe age of twenty-three. Still, Changkyun always had his doubts about that entire story Shownu fed them in the very beginning, explaining how he always had this dream of opening a small bar right across the street from his apartment where he’d be able to promote local artists. The conspiracy started weaving itself around the handsome owner once Changkyun realized X-Phenomenon is the only band to actually play live here, but the other members weren’t too concerned about it.

They got all the promo they could dream off with _Neon sweetheart’s _prime location in Itaewon, not too central to be overwhelmed with other street artists and performers taking away their bread, and not too far from the glam gay clubs either. Some of the members had other particular benefits. “Watch your mouth, punk.” Of course it’s Hoseok, the ever chivalrous knight still lacking a shirt but defending his pretty prince without hesitation. Maybe his thing with Kihyun is unnecessarily complicated and sometimes unfulfilling but at least he gets some. However, in Hoseok’s sad case, Hyungwon barely knows he exists and plays guitar Wednesdays and Fridays. Changkyun just rolls his eyes when his hyung catches him in a headlock quite playfully trying to offer Hyungwon an opening to grab the rum bottle out of his clutches, but he’s definitely not in the mood to play, not even with his favorite hyung.

“Seriously, fuck _off_,” he hisses and, not so accidentally, shoves his elbow uncivil in Hoseok’s ribs, obtaining his sweet freedom and a pained groan as trophy. He will apologize later to the guitarist. Some time when he is not prepared to snap at the next person having the nerve to speak to him directly while he, one, has a troublesome boner, and two, clearly got rejected by his – as much as he hates this terminology, the bright neon lights and late hour hinder him from finding any better word – _crush_. He hopes Jooheon is not planning on opening his mouth, he can’t stand having his two angelic hyungs upset and pouting at him simultaneously. “Come on don’t be so sour.” It’s Shownu who offers him some consolation this time, heavy hand patting his shoulder in encouragement. “You had a good show, everyone loved it.” That is true. With each performance, they’re getting more fans, more potential support and, overall, enough meals to keep them alive for a while.

“Yeah, especially the gals over there who wanna bed the dwarfling.” Changkyun is not the only one in a sour mood when Hyungwon keeps throwing all these acid lines his way. What was _his_ problem? Yet, indeed, when Changkyun glances in the direction the bartender jerked his head towards, he sees Kihyun with one blonde girly on each arm, smiling and charming and feeding off their giggles and heart eyes. Groupies. Changkyun can recognize them, the desperate kind who’d do anything to get their faves attention. And tonight, it looks like they’ve succeeded by the looks of Kihyun’s hand low on their backs. “Whatevs.” Changkyun doesn’t have time for this bullshit. He doesn’t care either. Yeah, totally, just whatever. And who thinks otherwise can line up to suck his balls after Kihyun does since, well, that fucker still got priority.

His head starts to hurt.

Without anything to add, Changkyun fetches his jacket from the hanger and darts out on Seoul’s chilly fall nights, bottle of rum in hand to keep him warm and bad company on the way home. “I hope you know someone has to pay for it,” Shownu reminds them before turning to go back to his office. Running a pub like _Neon Sweetheart_ is not all fun and games and responsibilities often outweight his personal whims. Ruffling Jooheon’s hair on his way out is one he’d let pass though. The drummer is quick to turn a perfected glossy eyed look to the only hyung available, since Kihyun had quite a handful to deal with right now – wait, was he signing autographs on napkins? Hoseok, as the eldest and unofficial leader of X-Phenomenon, sighs disappointed and asks Hyungwon to put it on their tab and seize the debt from their next payroll.

Despite the man shrugging off his request and going to the other corner at the bar to serve some dude with orange hair, Hoseok is not that somber over his yet another unsuccessful attempt of wooing Hyungwon. Rather, he chews his lip worriedly thinking about his friends. Jooheon tips his beer up, gulping down with thirst the yellow liquor and then swinging the rest by the bottleneck. “Those two,” the brunet mutters, his mushy looks replaced with a more serious expression Hoseok’s not that happy to see. “They’ll break each other and everyone who comes in between.” The guitarist glances back at Kihyun, at the lad he’s called his friend for so many years and wonders what changed. “I hope you’re wrong, Joobie, I hope you’re wrong.” Maybe he should have asked Hyungwon to pour a bit of vodka in his juice.

Not running into a cop on his way home while being in the obvious possession of alcohol in public might have counted like a blessing on a normal night, yet tonight is not Changkyun’s ideal end of the week. He can’t really think straight, he can’t really think in any sort of way when his mind is clouded by a hazy thick smog built on disillusions and frustrations. Each red light reminded him of the lamp he knows Kihyun keeps by his bedside table and each shadow brought unwanted images in his head, ones of the singer showing those girls just how skilled his mouth can be. Changkyun, after all, knows it very well from his own experience but he's too selfish to willingly share it with others.

He struggles for a solid minute to unlock the door to his apartment, probably waking up all of his neighbors in the process but they must be used by now to the two brothers renting the cheap and rundown attic. “Sticking to our grungy roots,” his hyung grinned when presenting Changkyun the somewhat affordable shoebox not incredibly far from the bar and close enough to the vintage music shop he likes to loiter. He finds Younghyun in their small living – well, basically his own improvised bedroom, sitting on the floor, back resting against the couch, surrounded by crumpled papers and candles. Changkyun would assume his hyung was just _going_ _through_ _it_ again, writing about that other chick who dumped him last November in the rain out of all places. But upon trying to switch the lights on, he realizes that the candles were spread around the house for practical reasons and not just aesthetics.

“Oh, you’re back early,” the elder notices offhandedly, chewing on the tip of his pencil before scrambling down some notes. Or lyrics, Changkyun gave up trying to understand Younghyun’s chaotic process when he composes music and settled to simply listening to the final result at one of Day6’s gigs. At least his band was getting invited to all sorts of events and didn't have to beg a friend to let them perform at his bar. “Yeah, well,” Changkyun rolls his eyes inspecting the mess on the floor, wondering how Younghyun didn’t set the whole building ablaze considering the fire hazard at their feet. He takes another swig of rum before searching the fridge for some chaser. Or cheese, cheese would work too. “That thing’s been there since last month,” the other bass player chuckles, laughing at his little brother’s sour face as he throws out the soup. Or whatever that was before it became soup.

“Got any coins to order up nuggets?” he mumbles and ruffles his already messy hair, dismissing the concerned look Younghyun sends his way when he snatches the rum bottle from Changkyun’s hand without much fight. “Sure. But tell me about the show first.” Changkyun would rather not, so he just seeks the first flat surface he can crash sort of comfortably on and falls dead on the couch, lying like a starfish with his arms and legs spread. His brother is insistent though, scurrying to his side and throwing a obnoxious tickle attack. "Stop that." His protests encourage Younghyun to be a prick instead, and even when Changkyun curls in a ball and turns his back to him, the older continues to poke him with the sharp end of his pencil until Changkyun groans. "You're such a fucking asshole, bro. Leave me alone, I'm tired."

"I thought you were hungry," Younghyun points out like the smart ass that he is, but at least he stopped tormenting him. With a bit of luck, he will also drop the subject and they can chill for the rest of the night. Speaking of which, Changkyun rolls over and pushes Younghyun’s fat butt off the couch to dig up something from the drawer of their side table. Finding the little pack is quite easy, especially since he guides himself like a hound after the smell. “Those are not mutually exclusive,” Changkyun retorts, and grinds a bud until he can safely roll it in a joint. Younghyun is not too fond of the smell, or rather he is too fond of someone who always smells like that but Changkyun bluntly ignores his scolding gaze. “True. But if you want your nuggets, you gotta tell me about your show,” Younghyun insists, crossing his arms when Changkyun actually lights up the cigarette. “Sorry I wasn't there, finished my shift late.”

The mumbled apology softens Changkyun a bit. His brother must have worked hard all day, first at the music store and then rehearsing for the local bands festival next week. Kihyun has been bugging them to sign up, but neither he nor Hoseok were confident enough in their own songs for that. And since the contest only accepted original creations, what was the point of showing up with some half-assed chords and lyrics. “’ Tis fine.” The long drag helps him let go of all the tension built up within the day. In spite of his reprimanding eyes, Younghyun doesn’t refuse when Changkyun passes him the joint. “You didn't miss shit. Just the usual,” he mumbles.

Yeah, just the usual with Kihyun teasing him to heaven and beyond, letting him see a glance of paradise before locking up the gates and throwing away the key, crackling in front of Changkyun’s pain. Much like the little candles lighting up the attic, Yoo Kihyun could offer a lot of things. He could be light and warmth, he could show you incredible passion and inspire a love so deep you’d never recover. But in the end, he is just another fire hazard. Perhaps it is better that no matter how close he pulls Changkyun, in the end, he lets the bassist plummet in ice-cold water. With Yoo Kihyun, you could never have it all. The more he gave the more he took away and Changkyun is not sure how much more he’s got left to offer the singer.

“Mmm,” Younghyun closes his eyes, holding in the smoke and letting it tickle his very soul before breathing it out through his nostrils. For someone who smokes so little, the older is quite skilled. When Changkyun first pick up the bad habit, his brother used to entertain him by creating intricate patterns from smoke circles. He’s quite skilled at a lot of things, but most of all at cheering Changkyun up when he needed it most. “So you killed it then,” the older says proud and gives his brother a big grin Changkyun can’t help but return. “Yeah,” he admits a bit shy but then remembers just how wild the crowd went not just for Hoseok but for all of them, even him, “Yeah, we fucking did.”

By the third hit, he feels high like a bird flying in the open sky with no chains, sailing across a sea of fans chanting his name and begging for his attention, people who appreciated his talent and his hard work and screamed so loud whenever he had a solo. “Shit, you should’ve heard their cheers hyung,” he laughs, smile a bit mad as he counts the cracks in their ceiling. By the next storm they might have to deal with a flood again, but that’s alright, he’s already learned how to swim through music and water will just carry him where he needs to be. He hopes that place has Kihyun around. “They couldn't get enough.” Neither could he, and once more he finds himself craving, his wings fluttering with the heavyweight of unrequited love. He is just a fool in the end for lusting after such fantasies, isn’t he?

“I bet,” Younghyun nods and gives him back the well-deserved joint. There’s not much left by now and his fingers are itching to go back to his new song. Still, there’s something on his mind he has to figure out first. “You're a damn good bass player, brother. You had a good teacher after all.” Changkyun laughs louder, an unusual crinkle so foreign from the familiar low vibration in his gut. Younghyun likes it when his brother lets go of all the walls protecting the citadel he built around himself, he likes it when he catches a glimpse of the same young child with whom he grew up together. “Stop sucking your own dick, it’s gross, bruv’,” the brunet teases with a fakely repulsed expression. “Anyway, where are my nuggets?” And as though it has been summoned, Changkyun’s stomach makes a quite loud and angry appearance growling empty.

“I'll order if you tell me why the long face.” It could never be that easy, no? Changkyun sighs at his brother’s stupid stubbornness and his philosophy about how talking your issues out actually solves them. Changkyun calls bullshit. He could write an entire bookshelf about all the things bothering him yet nothing would change. Not to mention his brother is terrible and practicing what he preaches. Still, even though he knows Younghyun won’t buy it, he tries to brush it off. “This is just my usual long face, what'ya mean?” Younghyun looks utterly unimpressed, a deadpan look replacing his caring smile. Go figure. “You know very well what I mean, Kyun.” Damn that damned tone, the big brother is home and he’s pissed you broke the curfew tone, the I know exactly what you're doing tone that usually only leads to awkward tension between them for a few days before the elder decides to just move on and ignore whatever Changkyun fucked up.

“Oi, I take pride in all my long body parts, don't you dare shame me on my nose now.” No longer has he finished his plea on big noses rights that Younghyun pulls his nose between his knuckles, successfully shutting him up and cutting off his breathing for a short moment. “Hey!” Changkyun protests when the other steps back only to boop the tip of his nose with his forefinger, teasing grin in place. “Kihyun,” Younghyun says, the name making Changkyun's knees week. Damn where is that bottle of rum? “How are things with Kihyun? Have you talked about it yet?” Changkyun curses himself for being way too honest a few months ago when he returned home drunk as a skunk and embarrassingly emotional over Kihyun turning him down once more. Well, turned down is a slight stretch from the truth, but being kicked out of the singer’s bed because he overstayed his welcome hurt nonetheless.

It’s not the harshness of Kihyun’s rejection that affected him so, but the insecurity of their relationship – or lack thereof. As a man who was brought up out of nothing, he learned to treasure every little thing in his life as insignificant as they might be to others. The smile a stranger sends his way on the subway, the dog stopping by to sniff his leg and ask for pets with cute barks, the purple of the sky when dusk cut through the horizon. The memories of his mates carrying him home after a stupid fight in the pub they used to tarry at so often. The soft kisses Kihyun indulges him so seldom which are all the more priceless full of unspoken tenderness. “Oh, we talked for sure,” Changkyun scoffs and does his very best to suppress another boner when recalls the way his lover’s face twisted in pleasure as he came in his arms, the urgency of his moans and the tight grip he had on Changkyun as though letting go would mean death. “Just not with words.”

Younghyun rolls his eyes and throws a light punch at his brother’s shoulder to which Changkyun reacts dramatically falling back on the couch. “Now you're the gross one, spare me the details.” There’s a whisk of comfortable silence when neither say a thing and the younger of the two looks on the brick of falling asleep, albeit his mind is still restless. When _Scorpions_ said they will _rock you like a hurricane_, they must have been awe-struck by the storm named Yoo Kihyun because, sure enough, Changkyun feels like an unstoppable typhoon left permanent damage in his entire being. And that might just be true, considering how his skin is still burning where Kihyun grabbed and pulled and held him close. Changkyun partly wants to forget it all, wants a clean slate and a new beginning and to pretend none of this ever happened.

Partly.

But it’s not that easy to let go of an addiction, and what was that ridiculous line? Yoo Kihyun is his personal brand of heroin. Somedays he goes to practice determined to break off whatever casual thing that goes back and forth between them, determined to end his own misery if Kihyun proves to be unable to offer the tiny bit of happiness Changkyun is asking for. But as soon as Kihyun is around him, Changkyun changes his mind and forgets all of his pep talks, all of his promises not to slip back into old habits just as Kihyun slips them away from the others in some cloistered corner they can touch and feel and taste ecstasy on each other’s tongues. Sometimes, quite literally. “Kyun,” Younghyun sighs, snapping Changkyun back to reality. “Stop hooking up like that, you're only gonna get your heartbroken if it's just a fling for him.”

“Oh yeah?” Changkyun shoots back, his pierced eyebrow twitching. “Is that what happened with Hanbin?” The absolute wretchedness that befalls upon Younghyun at the name of his former something fills Changkyun with guilt. Shit. _Shit_. He should have known better than to bring in Hanbin, especially since their situations weren’t similar at all. At least, he thinks so. Younghyun never cleared up what happened between him and the other composer and why they were no longer friends but once his older brother kept pestering him with questions about how he figured out his sexuality, it became a bit clear to Changkyun. Still, the picture is too hazy to comment on anything. And he definitely has no right to bring up this kind of wound when Younghyun only wanted to help out. “I – “ he tries to speak again but there’s still so much anguish in his brother’s eyes he nearly forgets about his own. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

Younghyun takes a shaky breath and stretches his legs before sitting up properly. A few of the candles have burned out but neither is willing to replace them as long as there’s still enough light to see before their hands. The shadows soothe the bitterness, if only slightly. In the shadows, Changkyun felt safe, he felt wanted and loved. In the shadows, Changkyun could see the glimmer of a thin ray of hope for _something_. Something he can selfishly cling to and hold close in dire times, something that he might perceive as home. But it’s foolish to have such hopes. His soul shall remain homeless, that’s just his fate. It’s that sort of savvy heartbreak that slowly cracks his heart into tiny little pieces that can’t be glued back together no matter how hard he’d try. Why does love have to be such a bitch?

“Want fries with those nuggets?” the other clears his throat, trying to dismiss the dark clouds that infested the attic. “Got my salary yesterday,” he adds as an incentive, but Changkyun knows that’s just an excuse for Younghyun to spoil him. It’s just the kind of big brother he is and it never fails to make him feel a bit better. “Yeah, and a shake for them.” _Damn Kihyun and his contagious habits. _

It’s not even the break of day when Changkyun wakes up in his own bed with a major headache, but he knows not to blame it on the bottle of rum he managed to retrieve before sleep and finish off by himself. Nope, the headache had a name and a face and a very urgent grin. “Dude, you’re super late for your appointment!!” Minhyuk shakes him awake, the brutality applied to Changkyun in such a fragile state – barely conscious of his surroundings, most of his senses numb or hurting, practically blind without his lenses – shooing away any gene of sleep hanging on his eyelashes. “What appointment?” he groans, trying to buy even just a few more minutes burying his head beneath a pillow. Of course, that prompts Minhyuk not only to throw said pillow across the room – and if Changkyun forgot his window open then the pillow is completely doomed, but also his cushy blanket he recently got with the money he won for one of the shows at Neon Sweetheart.

“Listen, mate. This is one of my best pieces and I’m not gonna let you out of it. Imma make your back the front-page of my portfolio.” Oh, shoot. He completely forgot agreeing to meet Minhyuk at his tattoo parlor this morning to continue where they left off last time and bring color to the roses blooming across his back. It’s one of the reasons he kept a shirt one the previous times he fucked Kihyun (or, well, the other way around), taunting the singer with all the possibilities that could hide behind the thin material. “Fuck,” he groans and tries to sit up but, to his surprise, Minhyuk stops him and straddles his hips instead. Before he can raise any sort of complaint, the blond already clarifies, “I brought the ink and machine with me, so be grateful, relax and let me do my work.” Yeah, simple enough. Be grateful, relax and let Minhyuk do his work. Except this is _Lee Minhyuk_, his best friend, and he knows what’s about to come before the needles even zoom alive or scratch his skin.

“So, I’ve heard Kihyun gave you blue balls again? I demand the full update I am entitled to and shouldn’t even have to ask for as your so-called best friend.”

_Fucking Hyungwon and his gossip mouth_.


End file.
